Nimue's Lesson
by Akugi
Summary: Nimue is the young apprentice to Merlin. To learn an important lesson she is sent to spy upon Arthur and his knights within the walls of the castle. Living on the Roman side of the wall she learns more of her enemies then she expected.


Disclaimer - Don't own Ôem.  
  
A/N: first off I lost a bet so I have to write King Arthur fanfics for a few months as "payment" I wanted to add some of the more traditional characters from Arthurian legend to the movie version. So I got this cobbled together mix of personalities forming. Review please, I enjoy constructive critisicm and outright praise so don't be shy!  
  
Nimue's Lesson  
  
Prologue To Learn  
  
"Watch them Nimue. Watch them and learn.  
  
My name is Nimue.   
  
I'm recognized among my people as the young apprentice to Merlin.  
  
A wise woman in training, a warrior in my own right, and now a spy at Merlin's behest.  
  
My people are in dire straits, trapped beneath the heel of Roman oppression and the approaching Saxon threat we have nowhere to turn.  
  
We have lost many to the Romans, our morale dropping as each anointed warrior doesn't return from battle. Our latest loss has hit hard, Guinevere and her warriors vanished into the forest moons ago, never to return.   
  
I reported to Merlin cautiously, describing the piled bodies of our warriors found near the sturdy Roman garrison on our land.   
  
Merlin smiled and caressed my cheek, soothing my worries away with a simple look.  
  
"She is not dead, her future is to great.  
  
Merlin insists Arthur is also our future, the kin slayer who rides beneath the banner of Rome.  
  
Ignoring the anger of his fellow elders he gave me the task of learning. To watch the knights of Arthur.   
  
We must be desperate indeed.   
  
I was placed in the common drinking area, loose peasant clothing covering the winding blue tattoos on my body. I spend my days sleeping and my nights serving the killers of my people drink.  
  
Each time they return they boast of more deaths, hatred in their voices as they tally the losses of Woads. I keep my smiles, nursing the ember of hatred in my heart as I wish for a blade in my hands. Thoughts of revenge consumed me, often I found my mask slipping as I watched the knights over the lip of my pitcher.  
  
I formed a quiet friendships with their women. I preferred the company of the young mother Vanora, the favored lover of Bors she had eleven children by him and was anticipating another. I often watched their children when they slipped away, a sensual curve to her lips as she looked at her knight.  
  
I stared at the young faces of their young, trusting eyes that never suspected the rage seething behind my soft smiles.  
  
I kept to myself, refusing to soil my body with the presence of a Roman in my bed. I confused the others when they gathered for gossip. I alone had no bawdy tales filled with nights of pleasure.   
  
I doubted many of the claims made, they would swoon with eyes fluttering shut. As if the memory of having one of Arthur's knights in their bed would carry them away from the squallor around us.   
  
During the dark of the moon I would slip away, meeting Merlin just beyond Roman borders and report everything I had seen. As always he asked the same question before I returned to my mission.  
  
"Have you learned?"   
  
I would smirk then, tossing my head defiantly I would glare at my master.   
  
"I have learned we are dying at the hands of fools."   
  
Merlin would shake his head, amusement in his eyes. Kissing me softly on the forehead he would send me back to my empty room in the Roman castle.  
  
I didn't understand the lesson Merlin wished for me to learn. The information I gave him was of no consequence. All I knew were useless tidbits of their lives.  
  
Bors was contemplating marrying Vanora and naming his children officially.  
  
Galahad and Gawain were competing to see who could bed the most women.  
  
Arthur and Lancelot argued more often then not yet were the closest of friends.   
  
Dagonet confessed his desire for a family after drinking too much.  
  
Tristan alone remained an aloof mystery. His dark eyes watched me on the rare occasion he drank with the others. Despite the mask I wore I couldn't shake the feeling he knew what I was.  
  
When I related all of this to Merlin he smiled, stroking the age smoothed wood of his staff as he listened.   
  
"And what have you learned from this?" he asked softly.  
  
I merely looked at him, unsure of my answer. I disliked the confusion in my heart when I looked at the Sarmatians.   
  
"Are you not concerned I'll be discovered?" I demanded instead remembering Tristan's eyes following my movements. I was disconcerted when Merlin laughed shortly, rapping me lightly on the head with his staff.  
  
"I have faith in your abilities Nimue." was all he replied.  
  
Tonight would be no different.   
  
All six of the Sarmatians were present, celebrating loudly they demanded more drink then usual. Gawain gestured for me to approach with my full pitcher, his laughter ringing clearly despite the noise.  
  
When I finished filling his tankard he surprised me by pulling me onto his lap. Slipping his hand up my thigh his raspy voice filled my ear. Murmuring of his prowess on the battlefield and in bed he boasted of his victories.  
  
Bile rising in the back of my throat I shoved myself away.   
  
Hearing him try to rouse my passions with tales of killing my people was too much.  
  
Fleeing to the safety of my rooms I left Gawain's surprised voice and the shattering of pottery behind me.  
  
I hid behind the shelter of my bedroom door until the next night. Fear and disgust running through me as I stared blankly from my open window.  
  
If Merlin hadn't sent me to watch the Sarmatians and their leader Arthur I could have hated them.   
  
I genuinely liked them as men, if I ignored their tales of battle and gleaming weapons I found my smiles becoming honest as my laughter joined theirs.   
  
I often found myself wondering how I would feel for them if we were on the same side. Would we be friends? Comrades in arms?  
  
Would I have fought beside them with pride?  
  
Rising with the setting of the sun I wearily dressed myself. Pulling the plain homespun dress over my head I carefully adjusted the folds of fabric to conceal the whorls of blue ink curving along my shoulders. My mouth sour with confusion I draped a on a light shawl and left for work.  
  
Vanora greeted me quietly, concern in her eyes as she took in my pale features. I smiled and assured her of my good health, ignoring the puzzled glances cast my way from the table of Sarmatians.  
  
Regretting my urge to wear my hair loose I studied the six warriors from beneath my lashes.   
  
Lines of exhaustion were fresh on their faces. Obviously weary despite their festive mood they were silent as I left the full pitcher at their table before slipping away.   
  
"Do you want me to take over?"   
  
I whirled to face Vanora, nodding hesitantly at her offer.   
  
I wanted to avoid the confused silent eyes that watched me covertly.   
  
An air of merriment returned when Vanora made her way to the table, shrugging off Bors's wandering hands with practiced ease. I hid in the shadows by the kegs nervously. I twisted my fingers into the fabric of my skirt as I pretended to be busy. Fiddling with the many pitchers and mugs scattered on the counter before me.  
  
"We're free men tomorrow."   
  
My eyes flew towards Bors at the sound of his voice. His abrupt comment made no sense to me as I shifted nervously.  
  
"What do you mean?" I questioned breathlessly, studying the burly warrior next to me.   
  
"Our last mission was today." shrugging as he downed the last of his drink Bors searched for a full pitcher as he spoke. "We'll receive our deeds of freedom come tomorrow and be on our way home soon after."   
  
I was shaken to see joy in his eyes.  
  
The crude man who fondled his lover in public, boasted of killing Woads with ease, and enjoyed bragging about the size of his attributes showed me a new side to his character this night.  
  
"Freedom?" I murmured hesitantly, handing him a brimming mug with an encouraging nod.   
  
"We served our fifteen years of duty to Rome." grinning as he eagerly accepted his fresh drink Bors leered at me approvingly. "We can finally return home and let the Romans play their games without involving us."   
  
I hid my surprise at this new tidbit of information. Suddenly many of the strange comments I heard made sense.  
  
It had never occurred to me they were serving unwillingly despite the clues laid before me.  
  
Hearing calls for a song I turned to see Vanora accept her babe from Bors's arms. Smiling shyly she tried to turn down the demands for her singing, giving in with a laugh when the pleas didn't relent.   
  
Poignant with longing her voice rose as she cradled her child lovingly, eyes distant.   
  
I studied them then, with new eyes.  
  
Beneath the cold faces of warriors who rode into battle without a second thought were men who desired their homeland.   
  
Victims of the Romans greed for power.  
  
Like my people.  
  
With conficting emotions I listened to the gentle melody.  
  
Just beyond Vanora's swaying form I saw Arthur's familiar profile, the young leader gazed sorrowfully at his warriors before attempting to leave silently.  
  
The others saw him, rising they made to celebrate with the man who led them for so many years. I heard him explain the last mission to them, regret heavy in his voice as he saw their hopes die.  
  
As they separated I slipped away.  
  
I could hear angry voices rising and the chime of breaking pottery as I left.   
  
If the knights were leaving with the morning light I would have to depart immediately and report to Merlin. Throwing my meager belongings together I swept my traveling cloak over my shoulders and left without a backward glance. 


End file.
